Please Don't Leave Me
by Kaslyna
Summary: Please don't leave me. Please." A story of healing after those infamous words were uttered, using lyrics to a song I first heard in the middle of South Dakota, two hours from civilization.


**A/N: AU set around Jump, Push, Fall and There's No Place Like Home II. Lyrics are P!nk's Please Don't Leave Me, which really, really fits. Also some spoilers for Loves Me Not, and mild ones for Elephant in the Room.**

**Disclaimer: Crossing Jordan belongs to Tim Kring and NBC; Please Don't Leave Me belongs to P!nk and whoever recorded it. All I own is the plot.**

_Da da da da, da da da da  
Da da da, da da  
Da da da, da da  
_

"Please don't leave me, please, I love you," she whispers into his ear.

She watches in horror as they wheel him away, the reality of what she had said sinking in.

She did love him. She did.

She sits around the waiting room, anxiety creeping up her spine.

"You can see them now," the doctor says, "You're Jordan Cavanaugh?"

She nods.

"Okay, you're his next of kin," he nods, "Well… we had to remove his spleen. We'll put him back in surgery in the morning, and he may be paralyzed below the waist, but we're flying a specialist in from New York, so there's a damn good chance he'll be okay."

Jordan nods weakly, taking it all in. With a nervous jitter in her stomach, she heads to his room.

"Hey," she shoots him a wan smile, "So, if you had to lose an organ, spleen's a good choice; pretty useless anyhow."

"Yeah, I guess," his voice is cautious and guarded.

"Doctor Turner said they're going to wait till the morning to take you back into surgery," she states, suddenly filled with fear.

"Good. Give me a few more hours to lie here and think about how much my life is going to such when I can't walk any more," he rolls his eyes, moody.

"You don't know that Woody. There's a good chance there's no nerve damage," she tells him with fake cheer.

"50/50. You making that bet?" he asks, no trace of humor in his tone.

"They're flying in a neurologist from New York. He's supposed to be the best. Right now you just need to relax, you need to rest," Jordan says, sending him a shy smile as she takes his hand in hers, stroking his knuckle gently with her thumb.

"What you whispered to me when they were bringing me in," he frowns, asking her.

"You heard that?" she asks, a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks.

"Yeah. Yeah, I heard that," his eyes bore menacingly into hers, "You said it 'cause you felt sorry for me."

"What?" hysteria creeps into her voice, "No!"

"You think I'm crippled, so…" his voice trails off with a soft sigh.

"Woody, no. I meant every word," she insists.

He pulls his hand out of hers, and she fights back a sob.

"Get outta here," he growls, no malice in his voice.

"Woody…" she panics.

"Screw your pity and get outta here," he commands, glaring, "Now."

She nods meekly and leaves, tears streaming down her cheeks.

_  
I don't know if I can yell any louder  
How many time I've kicked you outta here?  
Or said something insulting?  
Da da da, da da  
_

She visits him the next day. She does not know why. He is a drug to her; heroin, maybe, something very addictive, no doubt. Jordan is obviously obsessive, and for once, she curses it.

She holds a plant dumbly, standing in front of him. She must be asking for her death.

"Wow… looks like you'll be able to play violin again after all. Six weeks of rehab, you'll be good as new. Oh, they say that plants speed up recovery. Something about the chlorophyll," she grins.

"I meant it, what I said last night," he says factually, "You whisper something in my ear, it's supposed to change everything? It doesn't."

"You've been through a lot, Woody," her smile fades, "I think maybe we should talk about this later."

"I'm serious. Just because I'm gonna get better…" his voice falters, but his frown doesn't.

"Woody…" she says anxiously, resolve wavering.

"Jordan," he huffs, "Leave."

She nods weakly, head hung low, and leaves.

She takes the damn plant with her.

_  
I can be so mean when I wanna be  
I am capable of really anything  
I can cut you into pieces  
But my heart is broken  
Da da da, da da  
_

Nothing has been the same.

It has been three months. Woody is back at work, and Jordan has a new boyfriend.

Maybe it will work out between them.

He's certainly not the nicest guy, and is definitely a pain in the ass most days.

Maybe it will work, though.

They are so similar.

They are both pushy, obsessive, funny, and sarcastic.

He is also sleazy, sexy, and handsome.

She also has a mangled heart. Jordan is kind, witty, and beautiful.

She is also extremely pissed off at the world and, most importantly, Woody Hoyt.

_  
Please don't leave me  
Please don't leave me  
I always say how I don't need you  
But it's always gonna come right back to this  
Please, don't leave me  
_

Somehow, without her knowledge, the spring had turned to summer, and the summer to autumn.

The October sunlight is tired. Jordan knows how that feels.

She basks in the warmth that the roof provides, sad. She has a beer in one hand, watching the city. They used to watch the sunsets and the stars here. Her boyfriend had called her and asked her to return to her apartment, which he has slowly moved into.

"Coward," she mumbles to herself.

She is a coward.

She does not want to go home to him, to bed with him. If she did, she feels guilty and afraid of whispering his name.

He had asked if she still loved him.

She looked into his eyes and bit her lower lip, shaking her head.

"No," she murmurs, "I'm not. I think I'm falling in love with you, though."

It was a lie.

He did not seem to believe her, but he was grateful.

She felt horribly empty and exposed as he made love to her that night.

Jordan drifted off, and she was in the desert again.

She felt warmer.

_  
How did I become so obnoxious?  
What is it with you that makes me act like this?  
I've never been this nasty  
Da da da, da da  
_

November means memories.

Memories of the time they had kissed and looked at the stars.

Memories of that Thanksgiving.

She spends it in his arms.

Slowly but surely, her relationship with Woody is being fixed, but at the same time, she is losing herself to J.D.

She needs to make up her damn mind.

_  
Can't you tell that this is all just a contest?  
The one that wins will be the one that hits the hardest  
But baby I don't mean it  
I mean it, I promise  
Da da da, da da  
_

January is cold.

Their relationship is almost back to normal, and Jordan feels giddy as she steps out of the elevator at the morgue.

She takes a cup of coffee from Nigel, exclaiming, "Oh, Nige. You're a lifesaver."

"No, that one is Dr. Macy's," he tells her.

J.D. comes over and wraps his arm around Jordan.

"Hey, I missed you last night," he tells her with mock-hurt.

"Oh, I'm sorry about that," she sighs, slightly flustered, "I was on a case and I thought it was too late to call."

"Too late to call?" he chuckles before continuing, "This from my 3 AM heavy breather! I was hoping you'd come by. I had something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh, that's good," she nods faintly, "I have something I want to talk to you about, too."

"Why does your something not sound as good as my something?" he asks.

"Oh, don't get paranoid," she scoffs, "I just want to ask you…"

They walk into her office, and Woody, who is there, says, "Littleton Village. Oh, sorry, Pollack. I hope I'm not, uh…"

"Oh, no worries, mate," J.D. grins; his grin says, "I still have Jordan, so I don't mind your randomly appearing. I'm obviously the winner here."

"So, what's Littleton Village?" Jordan asks, cocking an eyebrow.

"It's where we're going," Woody announces cheerily, "Take the 2 out to Templeton, north on the 202 and then jog east on the 12."

"Going in this weather?"

"Some yokel cop drew the first murder out there in like, a century. He called the BPD, I drew the short stick; I called Macy, he drew you."

"Ah, glad I took his coffee," she grins evilly.

"Anyhoo, my car's lurching like it just had a corn beef at Corelli's, so I was kind of hoping that maybe you'd be willing to give me a lift?" he asks, batting his eyelashes sweetly. She rolls her eyes at him.

"Sure," she sighs.

"What do you say, Pollack? Think there's a story in a small town murder? We can make it a threesome," Woody says, then quickly adds, "Figuratively speaking."

"As much as I'd love to fight the snow," here he throws a smile at Jordan, "I've got a hearing to cover."

"Oh, can I take a rain check on our chats?" she asks seriously.

"Yeah," he nods, "I'll let you make it up to me. Ipolita at eight?"

"I'd love that," Woody says, and Jordan glares at him.

"Ipolita sounds great," Jordan sighs.

"You'll be back in time?"

"I'll bring the siren just in case," Woody announces sarcastically, earning another glare.

"You're a good man, Hoyt. Despite what she says," J.D. tells him, kissing Jordan. When he pulls away, he says, "I love you."

"Well, well, well," Woody comments wryly.

"Shut up," she growls, watching J.D. leave.

_  
Please don't leave me  
Oh please don't leave me  
I always say how I don't need you  
But it's always gonna come right back to this  
Please, don't leave me  
_

It is a hick town, in Massachusetts, no less.

There is some sort of eerie, morbid elegance in this.

Maybe all they need is a damn good murder.

Throwing in a blind man with six toes, a cop from Hicksville, a creepy proprietress, a honeymooning couple, a mom and a dad that are relatively normal, and a Goth kid with a weird obsession with blood and dead things definitely doesn't hurt, either.

_  
I forgot to say out loud how beautiful you really are to me  
I cannot be without, you're my perfect little punching bag  
And I need you, I'm sorry  
Da da da, da da  
_

A snowstorm.

Shit.

There is one bed in their room, and after politely arguing over who gets it, they both climb in.

They awake in the night to find the honeymooners in the morgue tent with the body.

It could not be them, though, it did not make sense.

The next day, Woody and the cop take them to the city hall.

Jordan investigates, and ends up with the loony innkeeper.

This kept getting better and better.

_  
Da da da da, da da da da  
Da da da, da da  
Please, please don't leave me  
(Da da da, da da)  
Baby please don't leave me  
(Da da da, da da)  
No, don't leave me  
Please don't leave me no no no  
_

She does not know what they chat about that night.

All she remembers is him saying that he missed them.

Woody pulls Jordan into a tight hug, and kisses the side of her head. She kisses him right below his ear, and her lips move shyly to his. He pushes her down, lips never leaving hers. He pulls her leg over his, needing her, wanting her.

Somehow, their layers of clothes are shed, and he hovers above her; with his eyes, he silently asks if it is okay. She nods, unable to speak, and he continues.

Jordan shuts her eyes, and the world keeps on dreaming. They move, synchronized, and she lets go.

Jordan stops caring.

His face crops up in her mind at one point, followed by a wave of guilt and nausea and pain. Woody's lips find hers again, and in a husky voice, he says he loves her.

She quits her guilt trip, and lets herself feel free once more.

_  
You say I don't need you  
But it's always gonna come right back  
It's gonna come right back to this  
Please, don't leave me  
Please don't leave me, oh no no no.  
I always say how I don't need you  
But it's always gonna come right back to this  
_

When she wakes up, she whispers, "Oh my God."

Jordan tries to pull his arm off of her, and he wakes up.

"Hey," he grunts, stretching.

"Hey," she shoots him a tentative smile.

Jordan Cavanaugh is trapped.

This morning after is different.

She knows him, and she really loves him.

Shit.

What a major cluster fuck.

J.D.'s face appears again, and she winces.

Jordan may love Woody, but it was wrong.

She does not wish to deal with it now.

_  
Please don't leave me  
Baby, please, please don't leave me_


End file.
